Julie was six years old. A small little thing, with curly black hair that framed her face like a halo. Her eyes were gray, and her lashes long. Julie lived in an overpopulated orphanage, in New York no less. Parents long gone, and no friends to be heard of.

One night, little Julie tottered over to her issued bed, with its gray mattress and lumpy pillow. Her too-small shirt and pants clung uncomfortably around her. She slid underneath the blanket that was no more than a sheet, shivering. It didn’t take long for her to fall into a restless sleep.

~~~

Seven slithered through the shadows, under beds, and over dressers. Just a whisper in the night, a dark thought that was only passing through. He wouldn’t stay long. He never did. Just long enough to feed off the girl’s nightmares, then he’d be gone.

There was a new girl here tonight. One he hadn’t sensed before. Darkness clung to her like smoke, a rancid smell that only Seven could sense.

He slowed, cautious. It wasn’t very often he found a human of interest, especially not one so young. His thin fingers flitted over her face, feeling the morbid thoughts that raced through her head. Feeling the secrets she kept, and the abuse that was hidden inside.

A feeling ran through Seven. Was it… pity? Demons weren’t supposed to feel pity. They were supposed to feed off the fear and horror from people, to live off the dark thoughts in the backs of human’s minds. Seven morphed his figure into something that resembled a human, though his eyes remained red and his teeth pointed. He ran gentle fingers over her cold skin, and made a decision. She would be protected.

~ 5 Years Later~

Julie dashed through the streets, 11-year-old legs pumping as fast as they could go. A greasy hotdog was clenched in her right fist, and she dodged around bums and rich people, none of whom gave her a second look. She knew he was following, he always did. After five years she was used to the presence that would trip people or push something into her reach. Which would somehow lay by her side when she cried herself to sleep. Sometimes she thought she saw a boy, sometimes a snake, or a dog, or just… a shadow. She didn’t know how, or why, but she had stopped asking a while ago. She had written notes at first, to the shadow that followed her. One day she finally got an answer, when she was about nine. Carved into the floorboards where she had left the note, was the number seven.

So she called him Seven, and he was the only friend she had. She thought she was crazy at first, but the other girls saying they saw the 7 in the floorboards proved differently. He was her guardian angel. Or, well, maybe not so much an angel as a demon. He didn’t always play nice.

Like the time Lily, who had teased her, had tripped over nothing and broke her ankle. Or when the cook yelled at her and threw the frying pan at her head, how seconds later, she received second-degree burns on her hand from the stove. Or maybe the time Robert had her on the ground, his legs kicking into her ribs, and how that night, he fell down the stairs and broke both of his arms.

These were things that the kids soon noticed. Julie began to be known as the haunted one, the one who wasn’t to be messed with. She didn’t mind one bit.

~5 Years Later~

Julie walked through the alley, careful to stay in the shadows, where she could see him. The boy with the hands that were always stuffed into the pockets of his black pants, which belonged to a black suit. The one with the slouch and red eyes. The one whose teeth were pointy, and who had never aged since she was six. The one who could make shapes out of the darkness, and who moved best in the night. The one who liked to be called Seven, and the only one she trusted. He walked, or, wait- no. He never walked. He glided through the air next to her, his arm brushing her side. He never seemed to stray far.

Julie’s raven black hair was tucked under her oversized hoodie, which made her body a shapeless blob that no one would hopefully find attractive. Not that it really mattered if they did. Seven would keep her safe. He always had.

“Left.”

The whisper barely left his mouth, but she had trained herself to hear the words he spoke, which were no more than vapor trails in the sky. Her feet instantly turned left, as he turned with her. She walked quickly and quietly through the shadows, eyes sweeping over everything. A final glance around, then a pale skinny hand closed around the rusted railing of a building that defied safety codes. The hand hefted up the rest of the body, and in the blink of an eye, a grimy window was gently banging shut.

She pulled herself into the room, which was filled with dust notes and holes in the floor. Rats and roaches skittered about her feet as she carefully walked across a beam to another room, one that was decidedly cleaner. This one contained a mattress on the floor, along with a small bookshelf, which held a rusted lamp, a rickety table and chair, a battered stove and sink, and a box on the floor next to the mattress. The box was out of place in the room, brand new and shiny. It’s white shone alone next to the blackness. She pulled a huge slat of wood that someone her size shouldn’t have been able to pull into place over the hole where she had come in. She flicked on the single lamp that didn’t have a shade, which gave off a surprisingly bright light. She dug in the box, where she found several clean blankets and food, along with a bottle of water.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

Her voice echoed around the room, though she knew he heard her. She dug under the new blankets and pulled out the only other pair of clothes she owned, black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

“Turn around.” Her voice commanded softly, though she knew he would anyways. He always did.

She pulled off the grimy clothes from the day, knowing she had to wash them somehow, soon. Her thin pale body stood illuminated in the light, one that had many secrets written upon it.

The scars stretched across her legs and thighs, down her back and up her stomach. She pulled on her clothes quickly, not wanting to look at something she despised.

“Go ahead and eat, I know you’re starving.” She grabbed the raw packaged meat that was kept in the opposite corner of the room, and set it onto the table, ripping open the plastic in the process.

He moved from the shadows in the dark and sat down awkwardly in the plastic chair, his long, nimble fingers beginning to pick up the slimy pieces of meat and toss them into his mouth. Julie turned away, she knew he didn’t like her to see him eat. She grabbed a filthy copy of Jane Eyre, and settled down against the mattress, and picked up on her favorite spot.

“Can I… “ he trailed off quietly, not wanting to ask. She knew how weird he felt speaking, and she patted the spot next to her and felt it sink down slightly.

She felt at home here, where she knew he liked it best. Julie’s head began to nod and soon dropped onto Seven’s shoulder. She didn’t mind the hands that ended in claws or the teeth that could rip her apart. The eyes that glowed like coals, or the cold that never seemed to leave him. Somewhere in her sleep, she felt his arms go around her, and he kept her safe from the demons that lurked in the night.

~~~

There are some people in this world that think they aren’t worthy of other people’s time and love because they are too dark for them. They don’t believe in themselves, all they can see is the evil in their souls. They stay quiet and in the background, for they kill anyone’s happiness that gets too close.

Or at least that’s what they think.

What they don’t realize is that there is more than one type of light. There’s more than one type of happiness. There is more than one type of beauty. Yes, some people do prefer roses to the dandelions. But I promise you, there are people out there who love the dandelions.

There are people who would kill for you. There are people who shine in your so-called “darkness”. Just because you’re a demon doesn’t mean you’re not capable of love.